The Succession of Chapters: A Turk Story
by Welfare Twins
Summary: Just one of many interperetations of the innner working of the turks. Having read this and not wishing to kill yourself, please let me know!


DISCLAIMORZ

The following is based on the turks in the game FF7. There is language, bad dressing, and sexual innuendo beyond. If you are one to be offended by these sorts of things, go rent a dora the explorer tape.

The Succession of Chapters

by Welfare twin number two.

**Chapter the first**

The ShinRa headquarters is located in the very center of Midgar. It has the ability to draw on energy produced by each of the equidistant reactors. One would think that with all this available energy, it would be possible to stop three intruders. One would be mistaken. One would also think that with all the energy, it would be possible to microwave a burrito. One again, would be wrong.

"Dammit!" Elena swore as she peered glumly through the microwave window. Rude and herself were alone in the Turk's break room. The fluorescent lights cast an unnatural shine on Rude's scalp. Adjacent to the stark room was a bathroom. Tseng was more than likely within, admiring himself in the mirror.

The walls remained unadorned. Partly because doing so would make the place look unprofessional. Partly because whenever someone tried to decorate, Reno would take it upon himself to put up pictures of crying clowns. It was when the pictures vanished that Reno donned a hospital gown and sat in the corner, sobbing. Afterwards, decorating was almost unanimously frowned upon.

Back to the story.

"Huh?" Rude looked up from his pop-up book, (starring Martin the moogle and Catty the Cactuar in a story of forbidden love and minor flesh wounds.)

Elena turned to him with a scowl. She was holding her still-frozen burrito.

"What have you been doing to the microwave?" She asked, her burrito raised menacingly.

"Huh?" Replied Rude with uncharacteristic wit.

"The microwave, dumbass. We're the only ones in here, it must have been you!" (She was right about one thing, they were the only ones in there. All the other employees were afraid of entering, and rightly so. The last person was a temp. He had accidentally put his lunch in the Turk's fridge. By lunch, the fridge Rude had named "Sarag," was empty. Among the crayon drawings on the front was a note. The temp took the note and with trembling hands opened it.

It read:

Thanks for the sadnwitch next time take of the crust's or dye.)

Rud

Rude looked up at Elena from behind the Ikea table, (it was definitely unboring). and said: "Nuh uh, Mr. Tseng uses it too!"

"Tseng doesn't eat." Elena swooned. "And if he does, he wouldn't microwave it, he's much too good for that." The microwave was temporarily forgotten as visions of SugarTsengs pranced in Elena's head."

"He does too!" Said Rude. "I saw him eat a whole box of Choco Puffs...he's kweh kweh for them."

"Consumer whore," Elena said with contempt as she slammed the burrito down on the table causing Rude to jump. "Unless you tell me what you did, I'm going to put this," she held up the frozen bludgeon, "somewhere Hojo wouldn't even find it. Do you understand me?"

"You mean in the shower?" Asked Rude, his face the definition of innocence. (Okay, not really. The state, quality, or virtue of being innocent is the real definition of innocence. Rude's face was more human-like.)

Elena growled. Her face twisted into a feral grimace. She lunged for Rude's throat, burrito still in her hand.

Time stopped, (as it tends to do in these circumstances.) The spittle spewing from Elena's snarling gob hung in midair between her and the terrified Rude. In an attempt to escape from the wrath of a woman scorned, Rude pushed himself away from the table. Such an action would in any other circumstance cause his chair to fall over, but now, he stayed in a similar state of limbo as Elena's angry saliva.

Finishing his smoke, Time got off his ass and let things continue as they should.

Crashing to the floor in a heap of Turkly goodness, Elena's hands closed around Rude's throat, the all-important burrito temporarily forgotten.

"This is for trying to microwave your materia!"

"I just like the way it feels warm in my pocket!"  
"You do know they make products that do that right?"

"Really?"  
"Yeah, no need to microwave anything."

"How does it work?"

"Well when the fluid comes in contact with the skin." She paused. "Hey, shut up! I'm still mad at you, you ass-douche."

A shadow fell over the shamble of limbs known as Elena and Rude. "Well now, Miss Elena, that's hardly language fitting of a Turk." Tseng looked down at them.

Elena rose sharply, brushed herself off, and proceeded to melt. "I'm so sorry sir!" She spoke with the eloquence of Paris Hilton. (Though there was no inquiry into the whereabouts of any canine companions.) "I was just disciplining Rude, sir!"

Tseng bent to the floor, (giving Elena a beautiful look at his Turkish behind,) grabbed the edges of Rude's chair, (in which Rude was still an inhabitant.) Lifting the chair-bound Rude to an upright position, the pop-up book, (The Tonberry King and Me,) was again his main focus. "If I recall correctly," Tseng began, apparently harvesting the grease in his hair to enhance oily quality of his voice. "Rude outranks you. Not only that, but much of what you said to him could be considered discrimination!" He leaned in close to her and spoke softly yet harshly, (with a hint of desperation)...and let's not forget a smidgeon of salt while we're at it, eh? "He could sue!"

Elena looked down for a moment, then, as if given a shock in the ass, looked up with an expression that only be described as: "Broing". "What condition exactly is Rude suffering from?" She placed her hand on her waist and jut out her hip.

Tseng shifted uneasily on his feet. "We can't really tell exactly." He glanced nervously at Rude. "He appears to missing part of his frontal lobe. That and his testicles, but we can blame Hojo for that. I'm not even going to tell you about his uterus."

The corner of Elena's mouth twitched, but her face remained stoic.

Tseng continued after another look at Rude. (He was opening and closing his book. Every time he opened it, a giant Tonberry could be seen whipping a Cactuar. Don't ask...just don't ask.) "The fact is, we've done so many experiments on him, he could claim to have any disease, disorder, complex or something icky like that and we legally couldn't prove him wrong without incriminating ourselves."Finishing, he rounded the table to sit opposite Rude.

Suddenly and without warning, the door burst open. A tall lanky man with red hair entered, breathing heavily. "Dudes! Avalanche has broken in! Boss man says go!"

Reno continued to stand there, one arm on the door frame to keep himself stable, still trying to catch his breath. No one had moved. All eyes were on him. "What?" Said Reno.

Silence

"C'mon! We gotta go get the good guys! C'moooooon!" Reno pleaded with an imploring movement of his arms.

Elena was the first to speak. "Reno...are you wearing a sarong?"

Reno looked down. "Yeah."

"It's floral print..." said Tseng.  
"I think it's purdy." Said Rude.

"Why are you wearing a sarong?" Said Elena.

Reno looked at them one by one before saying, "Who the fuck cares! We have a job to do! C'mon!" He paused, slumping his shoulders. "Oh fine!" He yelled and ripped off the sarong.

Tseng rose and moved to the door, avoiding the discarded monstrosity of fashion on the floor as he did. "Move out." was all he said. He and Reno left the room, running for the elevators.

"I never got my dinner." Elena said with a frown.

"Why did the Tonberry King have to kill Martin and Catty?" Rude asked, his book on the table, tears brimming in his eyes.

"Because you touch yourself at night." Elena shot back.  
Puzzled, Rude said "I touch myself so _they_ die? How come?"  
"Because god is tired killing kittens for your sins."  
"What are you talking about?"  
"You never got that email?"  
"What email?"  
"Never mind, let's go."


End file.
